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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854965">Trust, Rewarded</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowenablade/pseuds/rowenablade'>rowenablade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Consensual Somnophilia, Crowley Switches Efforts (Good Omens), Gags, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Good Omens Kink Meme, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Shameless Smut, Somnophilia, The Author Regrets Nothing, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering, dubcon roleplay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:40:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,521</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowenablade/pseuds/rowenablade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He really is beautiful, laid out like this. The lithe grace of his body, even at rest, the sheaf of red hair falling across his face, practically begging for a hand to brush it from his brow. Aziraphale knows (no, wonders, he reminds himself, in this story he doesn’t know at all) exactly how those silky strands would feel between his fingers. Wonders if there’s <i>anyone</i>, on earth or elsewhere, who knows what it feels like to touch Crowley like that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>497</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Break in Case of Emergency: Fluff and Love, Good Omens Kink Meme, Ixnael’s Recommendations, Top Aziraphale Recs</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Trust, Rewarded</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a fill of <a href="https://good-omens-kink.dreamwidth.org/3161.html?thread=3021401#cmt3021401">this</a> prompt from the Good Omens Kink Meme:</p><p>"A roleplay where Aziraphale finally can't help himself one time Crowley's asleep in the shop. Crowley's so beautiful and what would it really hurt? It wouldn't, he'll make it so good for him, make sure he's in bliss the whole time. So. He takes him."</p><p>Just to be clear, everything that happens in this fic is 100% consensual. Nevertheless, somnophilia definitely isn't for everyone, so by all means skip this one if you're not comfortable with it. Everyone else, please enjoy ;-)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What do you mean, ‘What does it feel like?’”</p><p>The question is curious, not defensive, asked as it is while Crowley’s voice is heavy with recent sleep. He’s still sprawled across the bookshop couch, eyes hooded and hair fetchingly tousled. He’s started to let it grow long again, and the fiery strands glow in the beams of dying sunlight coming through the windows.</p><p>Aziraphale puts a marker in the novel he’d been reading while Crowley napped the afternoon away and sets it down carefully. </p><p>“Well, I mean just that. What does sleeping feel like?”</p><p>“Ahh, I mean, it feels like not being awake, doesn’t it?” Crowley rubs at his eyes and drifts into a half-seated position. “You know. Lights out, dead to the world, ‘blessed barrier between day and day’?”</p><p>Aziraphale gives a noncommittal shrug, and Crowley raises an eyebrow.</p><p>“You’ve really never tried it?”</p><p>“It hardly seemed necessary,” Aziraphale argues. “And, well…isn’t it a bit dangerous?”</p><p>“How could it possibly be dangerous? It’s <i>sleep</i>, angel. All that ‘dead to the world’ stuff is just a figure of speech. You do know that, right?”</p><p>“Of course I know that. I don’t mean the act of sleeping itself is dangerous. But…you <i>are</i> totally defenseless, aren’t you? When you’re…all the way under?”</p><p>Crowley’s eyebrow is now in danger of merging with his hairline. “Given it a bit of thought, have you?”</p><p>“No!” Aziraphale denies it far too quickly, plus the tips of his ears begin to turn red, so Crowley knows that really means, <i>Yes, and for some reason I’m embarrassed to talk about it.</i> Oh, but <i>this</i> is shaping out to be an interesting conversation.</p><p>“I’ve spent time in a lot of dangerous places, Aziraphale,” Crowley explains patiently. “You really think I’d still be around if it were that easy to just, y’know-“ He draws his finger across his throat and makes a slicing sound.</p><p>“So you can, then? Sense a threat, even when you’re sleeping?”</p><p>“There’s levels to it, is what I’m saying. There’s real deep, pitch-black, full-on unconsciousness, and yeah, I don’t usually go for that unless I’m somewhere totally secure. But I can sort of…dial it up and down. When I’m here, for example. I’m resting, but I can still sort of sense what’s going on. I could come out of it right away, if I needed to. Why are you so curious anyway?”</p><p>“No reason,” Aziraphale answers in that airy tone that means <i>I haven’t decided if I’m comfortable sharing the reason with you, yet</i>, and no, that won’t do <i>at all</i>. Crowley stretches his arms out across the back of the sofa, closes his eyes, tilts his head from side to side to crack the bones in his neck, and doesn’t say a word. If he doesn’t speak, there’s nothing Aziraphale can latch onto as a chance to change the subject.</p><p>“It’s just…” Aziraphale begins, and Crowley can’t help but smirk.</p><p>“Well, I’m sure you’re aware of how attractive I find you, darling,” the angel continues.</p><p>Crowley laughs. “Oh my, was <i>that</i> what all those times you’ve buggered me senseless has been about? I’d been meaning to ask you about that.”</p><p>The crimson flush spreads from Aziraphale’s ears to his cheeks. “There’s no need to be obscene.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m beginning to think there is,” Crowley purrs. “Do go on, virtuous one.”</p><p>“So, you insist on falling asleep in the middle of my bookshop on a regular basis- and I don’t mind at all, truly,” Aziraphale interjects when Crowley looks like he might take issue with that statement. “My point is, I can hardly avoid you while I’m working, so I have had many opportunities to…observe you in that state.”</p><p>“And?” Crowley’s grin widens, and he runs a lazy hand through his hair. “Like what you see?”</p><p>“Quite. And, well,” Aziraphale shrugs. “Sometimes you’re out for a long time, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I can hardly help it if the mind wanders.”</p><p>“Can’t you?” In one lithe movement Crowley is on his feet, in another sauntering over to the armchair where Aziraphale is seated and draping himself across the angel’s lap. “And where, exactly, does the mind wander to?”</p><p>“You may not care to hear about it,” Aziraphale warns him, trying to keep his tone neutral even as one of his hands spiders up Crowley’s thigh.</p><p>“Mm. But wouldn’t it be something if I did, love? Worth the risk, don’t you think?”</p><p>“You’re tempting me,” Aziraphale accuses.</p><p>“Seems like I’ve been doing that without knowing it.” Crowley flicks his tongue against Aziraphale’s ear. “Out with it, angel. What’s the big sssecret?”</p><p>Aziraphale suddenly finds his mouth is rather dry, and has to clear his throat before he can speak.</p><p>“Yes. Well. I’m not proud of it, but sometimes when you’re sleeping, I imagine….”</p><p>——</p><p>When Aziraphale began asking probing questions about sleep and, more specifically, Crowley’s awareness of the world around him whilst sleeping, he’d been, at most, hoping that the demon would let slip some details that would assist Aziraphale in some of his more…selective fantasies, he’d call them.</p><p>He thought, maybe, one day, if he was absolutely sure Crowley wouldn’t be upset, he’d share them. Hypothetically. Just to see how Crowley would react.</p><p>He hadn’t dreamed that not only would Crowley guess what he was dancing around almost immediately, but would be wildly enthusiastic to try it out.</p><p>“I hope I haven’t offended you, darling,” Aziraphale stammers, wondering if it’s possible to literally be embarrassed out of one’s skin.</p><p>“Are you kidding?” Crowley’s eyes are practically gleaming with mischief. “If anything I’m impressed. Such filthy thoughts, and for an angel…”</p><p>“It’s really not all that bad,” Aziraphale mutters.</p><p>“Oh, yes it is,” Crowley laughs. “I love it. When do you want to make it happen? Tomorrow?”</p><p>Aziraphale’s heart nearly lurches out of his chest. “Don’t you…want to wait a bit? Maybe take some time to get used to the idea?”</p><p>Crowley has been pacing about the room now, aggressively keyed-up, tapping his fingers on surfaces, fiddling with the spines of the books until he notices it’s making the angel nervous. He stops to look at Aziraphale, and does it with such fondness and trust that it hurts a little to look at, like staring into the sun.</p><p>“Of course we can take some time, angel. As long as you like.”</p><p>Relieved, Aziraphale nods. Crowley leans against a bookshelf and begins counting in his head. </p><p>He gets to thirty-four before Aziraphale speaks up.</p><p>“If, in the meantime, you want to discuss the details?”</p><p>——</p><p>A week later, Aziraphale shoos the last few straggling customers out of the bookshop just as afternoon begins to give way to evening, and flips the sign to ‘Closed’.</p><p>He takes about thirty minutes to put the shop to rights, closing the blinds, straightening the shelves, trying to ignore the anticipation fluttering in his chest. He can detect a faint tremor in his hands as he reconciles the cashbox.</p><p>At last, when he can think of no more minutiae with which to distract himself, he makes his way to the back room, treading as softly as he can.</p><p>Crowley is asleep on the couch, just like Aziraphale has found him dozens of times, but there are subtle differences this time. He’s deigned to slip his boots off, something he’s never done before no matter how many times Aziraphale has chided him about scuffs. He’s also removed his sunglasses. They’re folded up on the table next the sofa, a table that is now closer to the center of the room because the couch is slightly bigger. Normally it’s large enough for the lanky demon to stretch out and only just, but now it’s grown wide enough to reasonably hold the two of them.</p><p>Little indications that Crowley has been anticipating this, with the same enthusiasm Aziraphale has. It soothes the angel’s somewhat troubled mind, and allows him to tell himself a story.</p><p>Some philosophers have opined that stories are windows into other worlds, and there’s a window through which Aziraphale can look and see an afternoon much like the one he currently occupies. The shop is closed, the sun is setting, and there’s a demon sleeping on his couch. But this demon is not Crowley, his lover, who winked licentiously at Aziraphale before slipping in here two hours ago. This demon is Crowley, his ostensible adversary and sometimes friend, who Aziraphale has never touched before. This demon has nodded off because he simply got bored watching Aziraphale putter about the shop, and he would never in a million years suspect that the angel would do anything untoward. </p><p>The look on his face is one of utter peace, and Aziraphale can’t help but smile fondly at the sight of it. It’s a bit naive of Crowley to fall asleep in his adversary’s home like this, for all their shared camaraderie. But that’s part of Crowley’s charm, isn’t it? His trust, his friendliness, his pursuit of pleasure, even ones so simple as an afternoon nap. It’s one of the many reasons Aziraphale cares for him.</p><p>He really is beautiful, laid out like this. The lithe grace of his body, even at rest, the sheaf of red hair falling across his face, practically begging for a hand to brush it from his brow. Aziraphale knows (no, wonders, he reminds himself, in this story he doesn’t know at all) exactly how those silky strands would feel between his fingers. Wonders if there’s <i>anyone</i>, on earth or elsewhere, who knows what it feels like to touch Crowley like that.</p><p>As if he’s able to sense Aziraphale’s thoughts, Crowley sighs softly and rolls onto his back. There are more buttons undone on his loose shirt than is customary even for him, and Aziraphale can see a broad triangle of pale skin and fine dark hair. He thinks about touching, and finds himself moving closer without realizing he meant to, until he is standing over the sleeping demon, his breath growing a little ragged.</p><p>Well, it <i>is</i> his couch, after all. He’s allowed to sit on it whenever he wants. It’s not his fault that Crowley’s commandeered the whole thing in his commitment to the sin of Sloth.</p><p>He lifts Crowley’s head as gently as he can, and sits down, letting the demon’s head drop back onto his lap. Crowley sighs deeply, but does not wake up.</p><p>He does look exceedingly comfortable. His hair is spread out over Aziraphale’s thighs, and the angel allows himself to touch, stroking the demon’s locks as if he were a skittish cat. It’s more wiry than Aziraphale imagined it would be, and smells a bit like oranges and a bit like smoke. Like summer.</p><p>As Aziraphale’s fingers stray closer to the scalp, Crowley’s tilts his head up and nuzzles into the touch, and Aziraphale’s heart skips a beat. Does he know he’s being touched, and who is touching him? Is he enjoying it?</p><p>How long must it have been since someone touched Crowley with anything approaching tenderness? All those years in Hell and then stationed on Earth, with his adversary as his closest companion? Perhaps he’s taken human lovers, but surely none of them have known how to touch him the way someone who has watched him and known him for six millennia can?</p><p>Aziraphale is startled to realize that his hand that isn’t petting Crowley’s hair has come to rest on the bare skin of his chest. The skin is warm, and drawn so tightly over the bones that Aziraphale is surprised his fingers make no sound, as they would on a drum, when they creep down to unfasten one button, and then the next. Soon Crowley’s shirt lies fully open, treating Aziraphale to the sight of his ribs and clavicles, the soft hair that travels from his navel to below the waistband of his ridiculously tight trousers. Aziraphale runs an appreciative hand down Crowley’s torso and then back up, his thumb catching on a nipple as it goes. When that happens Crowley makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat, and Aziraphale freezes. But the demon does not stir, and soon Aziraphale’s hand drifts back down, rolling the soft pink bud between his thumb and forefinger, eyes widening as it stays erect after he lets go.</p><p>“Oh, my dear,” he whispers. “Do you like that?”</p><p>Crowley of course doesn’t answer, but he arches his back slightly when Aziraphale applies the same treatment to his other nipple. When Aziraphale pinches lightly, Crowley’s mouth falls open in a silent gasp and for a second his eyes flutter, but then he relaxes back into the sofa once more.</p><p>“You are <i>so</i> beautiful.” Aziraphale brushes Crowley’s parted lips with his thumb and then, after a moment’s hesitation, slips his index finger into the demon’s mouth. He strokes the velvety, soft tongue a few times before adding a second finger, and bites back a groan when Crowley, eyes still closed, begins to suck on them.</p><p>“Yes darling, oh, look at you,” he sighs. He pushes in a little deeper, nudging against Crowley’s throat, and Crowley gags softly around his fingers but does not wake up. Aziraphale spreads his legs a bit to give his now-achingly hard cock more room. Crowley’s head tips back a little farther, exposing the vulnerable muscles of his throat, and Aziraphale watches them work as he swallows.</p><p>He suddenly, very badly needs to put his mouth on all that skin. He pulls his spit-slick fingers free and carefully, so carefully, eases out from underneath Crowley, who still looks very comfortable, if now a bit mussed and breathing a little harder.</p><p>He kneels between Crowley’s legs and begins planting light kisses over his neck and collarbone. He licks and sucks at both nipples until they’re a bright, urgent shade of pink, and Crowley squirms a bit and lets out the occasional sleepy little moan. Even in sleep he seems determined to present as alluringly as possible.</p><p>“Is this how you like to be touched, sweetheart?” Aziraphale kisses the delectably soft skin of Crowley’s stomach.</p><p>Crowley still doesn’t answer, and on some level, Aziraphale knows what he is doing is deeply wrong. Crowley has never invited Aziraphale to touch him like this, and even if it’s something that he wants, he’d surely prefer to be awake for it. But he’s so beautiful, and he’s responding so sweetly to Aziraphale’s touches, and what harm would it be, really, for Aziraphale to keep making him feel good? He’s in no danger. Aziraphale would never hurt him. And if making him feel good happens to make Aziraphale feel good too, is that so wrong?</p><p>Crowley is a guiltless seeker of pleasure, a hedonist in much the same way Aziraphale is, for all their vices might differ. Wouldn’t Aziraphale, in some way, be helping Crowley indulge in his chosen sins of pride and vanity, by being unable to resist the demon’s physical form? Wouldn’t Crowley be proud, on some level, that’s he’s managed to coax an angel into such a sinful act?</p><p>Is it possible that things are exactly as they ought to be, like this?</p><p>Aziraphale dares to brush a hand over the front of Crowley’s jeans, and it’s immediately clear that however Crowley’s mind might feel about this, his body is responding in much the same way Aziraphale’s own is. Aziraphale takes a moment to rub his palm against the hard length, just enough to feel it twitch beneath his hand, and then he’s working down the zipper with shaking fingers and peeling Crowley’s jeans and underwear off his skinny hips.</p><p>As soon as Crowley’s cock is free, Aziraphale wraps his lips around the head and gives it a long, slow suck, half-expecting Crowley to snap awake and throw him to the floor. He has no idea how he plans to explain himself at this point if the demon wakes up, and part of him has started to assume that Crowley must be aware of what’s happening in some primal sense, and takes his continued slumber as tacit approval. Another part of him knows this is transparently self-serving, but that part seems so quiet and unimportant, especially when he takes Crowley a little deeper into his mouth and Crowley writhes underneath him and <i>whimpers</i>.</p><p>Aziraphale pauses for a moment so that he can remove Crowley’s pants the rest of the way, as well as shedding his own jacket, waistcoat and tie. He’s hesitant to undress himself any further, for all that plausible deniability is well and truly off the table at this point. Something about it makes this even more illicitly thrilling, to be almost fully clothed while Crowley is nearly naked, his arms still in his shirtsleeves but everything else fully on display. Aziraphale pushes Crowley’s legs further apart and then resumes sucking his cock, relishing the demon’s tiny noises and the sharp, faintly bitter taste of pre-come on his tongue.</p><p>His own dick is desperate for attention, so Aziraphale palms himself through his trousers and tells himself that it really shouldn’t go any farther than this. He can finish Crowley off with his mouth and see to his own satisfaction later, once the demon is safely put to rights, allowed to wake up and seen out. It would be more than enough, for Aziraphale to have had this chance to touch and taste him in this way.</p><p>But…Crowley is in such an enchanting state right now, flushed and languid with pleasure, and Aziraphale has so many more ways to bring the demon to further stages of bliss. Their corporations are similar enough, after all; Aziraphale knows how to please his own human body, and he knows Crowley. And what if this is the only chance that he…that they…ever have?</p><p>He pulls his mouth off the demon’s cock to lightly kiss the tender skin of his hipbones. “I’m going to take such good care of you, sweet boy,” he purrs. “You’re going to feel so good. Just relax and trust me, my love.”</p><p>Aziraphale snaps his fingers, and the bottle of lubricant that normally resides in a drawer in their (just his, he reminds himself, in the story) bedside table appears in his hand. He liberally slicks up his fingers before probing at the cleft of Crowley’s ass, then gently circles his rim a few times before slowly, slowly pushing a finger in.</p><p>Crowley shudders violently, making Aziraphale dart his gaze up to the demon’s face, but he’s still, miraculously, fast asleep.</p><p>“Shh,” Aziraphale whispers, his free hand braced on Crowley’s thigh, holding him open as he pushes a little deeper. “I’ve got you, dearest, everything’s alright.”</p><p>In real life, he knows what Crowley can take, knows the pace his lover is used to. In the fantasy, this is all new, and he’s overly cautious with the sleeping demon, taking his time to make sure Crowley is thoroughly loosened up before adding a second finger, and then a third. Aziraphale alternates between teasing the shaft of his dick with his tongue and whispering encouragements, telling Crowley that he’s stunning, that he’s irresistible.</p><p>“I have to have you,” Aziraphale finally pants, straightening up to his knees so he can fumble at his belt buckle. “You’re ready for me, I know it. Taking my fingers so well. How perfect you’re going to look, with my cock in you.”</p><p>He conjures up a throw pillow to nestle beneath Crowley’s hips, pushes his own trousers down past his thighs and bends Crowley’s legs back, opening him up. The demon is so relaxed, so pliant, there’s almost no resistance when Aziraphale pushes the head of his cock into him. It doesn’t take long at all before Aziraphale is seated all the way inside him, gasping as he adjusts to the dizzying rush of heat and closeness. He leans forward, letting Crowley’s legs fall loosely around his waist, kisses the demon’s lips with almost worshipful tenderness, and, tentatively, he thrusts.</p><p>Crowley’s eyes fly open.</p><p>His pupils are dilated to wide black pools ringed with molten gold, and they drift, unfocused, first about the ceiling and then to Aziraphale’s face and then downward, to where Aziraphale’s hips are flush against his ass and his own cock is leaking onto his stomach.</p><p>“‘Ziraphale…” he slurs. “Wha…what’re you…?”</p><p>“Shh, darling, it’s alright, you’re fine,” Aziraphale murmurs, trying to be still while he soothes Crowley but unable to keep his hips from rocking forward a little bit as he speaks. “Everything’s fine. This feels good, doesn’t it? Just relax, lovely, let me take care of you.”</p><p>“I…I don’t…” Crowley’s words are cut off by a breathy moan as Aziraphale bottoms out. His hands come up and paw at the angel’s chest, as if he’d be pushing Aziraphale away if his arms weren’t so heavy.</p><p>When they’d discussed this earlier, it had been Crowley’s suggestion that he might enjoy pretending to resist, should he awaken in the middle of the act. Aziraphale had strenuously objected at first, stressing to Crowley that he in no way wanted to cause him any pain, and the demon had breezily reassured him that it wouldn’t come to that. </p><p>“We can assign a code word, that’s the way it’s done now,” Crowley had explained. “One of us says, I don’t know, ‘apple’, and the whole thing stops right away. Sound good?”</p><p>It had, and now Aziraphale watches Crowley’s lips move very carefully. But the code word doesn’t come. Instead, Crowley twists a little bit, looking as if he’s trying to get out from under Aziraphale, but the movement has the opposite effect of tilting his hips up to better meet the angel’s thrusts. </p><p>“We shouldn’t…” Crowley grits his teeth and hisses softly. “Not supposed to…”</p><p>“I’ve got you,” Aziraphale repeats between burning kisses to the demon’s face and neck. “There’s nothing to worry about.”</p><p>He waits for Crowley to say the safeword, or to physically resist beyond these light little pushes, or to wake himself all the way up and tell Aziraphale to stop, or use his powers to get away.</p><p>But Crowley doesn’t do any of those things. He just weakly shoves at Aziraphale’s shoulders, and it’s so easy for the angel to ignore his fumbling hands and concentrate instead on kissing the drowsy confusion off his face.</p><p>“You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” As Aziraphale speaks he lets his thrusts grow more insistent, watching Crowley’s eyes flutter every time he hits that glorious spot deep inside of him. “You’ve been so good, and you deserve so much more, my sweet boy. You deserve to feel good, you deserve all the pleasure I can give you, so let me. Just give in, my beautiful one, I promise I’ll take care of you.”</p><p>He reaches down between them and wraps his hand around Crowley’s dick, stroking him in time with the rocking of their bodies, flicking his thumb over the head with each pass. Crowley’s jaw drops and his arms fall back down to his sides, fingers scrabbling against the fabric of the sofa.</p><p>“…’Ziraphale…please…” he moans.</p><p>“Yes, my love, come on, that’s so good,” Aziraphale sighs against Crowley’s neck. “You’re close, I can feel it, just let it happen, let it go, that’s it…”</p><p>Crowley whimpers through his clenched teeth and Aziraphale feels his hand grow slick and hot, feels Crowley’s cock pulsing in his grip and Crowley’s body clenching around him. The pleasure is exquisite, almost enough for Aziraphale to finish just like this, but he’s not ready for it to be over yet. Aziraphale loves sweet things, he always has, he can’t help it, and this is the sweetest indulgence he’s been gifted with since his feet came to touch the base clay of this planet. So he grits his teeth and forces the surge of his climax back and pulls himself up to his knees.  He miracles the mess off of his hand and Crowley’s stomach, then picks up Crowley’s hand and guides it between his lewdly spread legs.</p><p>“Change this for me, dear, won’t you?”</p><p>Amber eyes blink slowly up at him, uncertain, and Aziraphale moves Crowley’s hand to cover his softened cock.</p><p>“Your Effort, darling. Why don’t you switch? Then you can just lie back while I make you come again and again. Wouldn’t that be nice?”</p><p>Crowley’s throat works, like he may be about to speak, but then instead he closes his eyes and appears to concentrate. The flesh beneath his hand shifts, a singularly unusual experience for Aziraphale, who’s cock is still buried in his ass. When Crowley moves his hand away there’s a soft pink vulva where his penis and testes once were, already wet and inviting. </p><p>“That’s perfect, love, so perfect.” Aziraphale grips Crowley’s hip with one hand and with the other reaches down to tease the demon’s new Effort, brushing with just his fingertips. Crowley sinks back into the cushions, arms slack, knees splayed apart, eyes falling shut.</p><p>“Yes, good boy, lie back and enjoy it.” Aziraphale starts to fuck into him in earnest once more. Crowley groans when Aziraphale’s fingers find his clit, and the angel toys with it a minute before sliding two fingers into the slick entrance below.</p><p>“Ah- ah-“ Crowley’s back arches off the sofa.</p><p>“Yes,” Aziraphale growls, “look at you, look how much you can take, you gorgeous thing.” He soon has all four fingers buried to the second knuckle in Crowley’s cunt, his thumb rubbing insistent circles on his clit, while he fucks him. “You’re going to come just like this, aren’t you?”</p><p>Crowley nods, and then his whole body tenses and he throws his head back, keening. His hips jolt, pumping against Aziraphale’s hand and cock, his legs shake, and it’s not enough, Aziraphale wants to see <i>more</i>.</p><p>He doesn’t let up, keeps the same pressure on the demon’s clit despite his squirming. Crowley clenches around him again and Aziraphale has to squeeze his eyes shut and slow his pace in order to hang on. When he manages to get himself under control and opens his eyes again, he sees Crowley has brought one of his own hands up to his mouth and is biting down on the knuckle of his index finger.</p><p>“You need something in your mouth, sweet thing? Is that it? You need to feel completely full?”</p><p>The nodded response is accompanied by a full-body shudder, and Aziraphale looks around. He’d love to be able to replace Crowley’s hand with his own, but both of his are rather occupied at the moment, the one not pleasuring Crowley being used to keep his balance. After a moment’s thought he snaps his fingers, and his handkerchief disappears from the pocket of his discarded jacket and materializes in his hand.</p><p>Aziraphale balls the fabric up, gently pulls Crowley’s hand away and stuffs the handkerchief in his mouth. Then he grips Crowley’s hipbone once more and begins to set a rougher pace.</p><p>With the fabric now there to muffle the sound, Crowley’s noises sharpen, grow guttural and desperate. Aziraphale feels it when Crowley comes, feels the pulsing around his cock and his fingers, separated by only a thin wall of muscle. Still he doesn’t relent, working Crowley’s clit until he’s screaming into the makeshift gag.</p><p>“You needed this, didn’t you?” Aziraphale pants. “Someone to take you. Someone to show you how good this can be.”</p><p>“Mmm-hmm,” Crowley moans. There are tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, glittering like diamonds.</p><p>“You look so good. Such a sweet, lustful little creature. You were made for this, you must have been, to look so perfect.”</p><p>Crowley writhes beneath him and comes again, and Aziraphale knows he’s also almost past the point of no return.</p><p>“I’m going to come in you, and then I’ll clean you up, and you can sleep as long as you want. And when you wake up, all you’ll remember is you’ve had a lovely dream. You’ll always have good dreams, here, with me.”</p><p>Slowly, deliberately, Crowley lifts one hand and places it over the one Aziraphale has on his hip. He squeezes it, silently urging, and Aziraphale closes his eyes and finally, finally comes. It hits him in three sharp, brutal waves, wresting breathless cries from his throat, and then fades away, leaving behind a giddy exhaustion that runs into his limbs like water.</p><p>“Oh, my love.” He slumps forward, catching himself on his palms before he can fully collapse on top of Crowley, who has spat out the handkerchief and now lies in a twitching, shuddering heap.</p><p>There’s a ripple in the air, and the couch widens a bit. Aziraphale isn’t even sure which one of them did that, but he flops down next to Crowley gratefully all the same.</p><p>“Crowley? Are you alright, darling?” he asks, wanting to touch him but worried that might be too much for the utterly spent demon.</p><p>Crowley rolls onto his side, facing Aziraphale, and tugs at the buttons of the angel’s shirt.</p><p>“Off,” he whines. “Now.”</p><p>Aziraphale laughs and snaps his fingers, vanishing his clothing so they can lay skin to skin. It’s not his preferred way to treat his clothes, but he’d set his whole blasted wardrobe on fire right now if it would make Crowley happy for a moment.</p><p>Crowley wraps his arms around Aziraphale and nestles his face into the crook of his neck, skin still thrumming with blissful aftershocks. Exhausted, Aziraphale strokes Crowley’s hair and lets his mind drift, the bookshop growing dark around them as night falls.</p><p>“Did you…was I…” Crowley’s eyes roll up to meet Aziraphale’s, wide and vulnerable. “Was I good?”</p><p>“Good? Sweetheart, you’re unbelievable.” Aziraphale traces along Crowley’s cheekbone with his thumb. “I can’t believe how lucky I am. I grow more in love with you every day.”</p><p>The praise makes Crowley color prettily and burrow closer, so Aziraphale continues, telling the demon how much he loves him, how sweet he is, how special. Crowley is not always this receptive to compliments, and Aziraphale sees his acceptance of them right now as another rare treat for the both of them to savor.</p><p>“You won’t actually do that, right?” Crowley asks softly. “Make me forget this happened?”</p><p>“Goodness, no,” Aziraphale answers, surprised. “I’d never alter your memory, my love, I’m not even sure I <i>can</i>, but rest assured I’d never. That was just…what does one call it…improvisational dialogue?”</p><p>Crowley laughs, but Aziraphale can’t help but worry a bit now about what the demon may think of him, now that he knows the depravity Aziraphale is capable of.</p><p>“And I hope you know, darling, that I’d never do…anything like this, again, without your express permission. I understand if you don’t want to sleep here in the bookshop anymore, but please know you’re perfectly welcome to, and I won’t trouble you at all, or expect anything, or-“</p><p>“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to stop napping here after <i>that</i>, angel. I may never leave this couch. You’ll just have to put a little velvet rope around me to keep the customers away. Tell them I’m a wax sculpture, or something.”</p><p>“Customers aren’t allowed back here,” Aziraphale scoffs.</p><p>“All the more reason for me to take over, then,” Crowley replies. “Really, though, angel, don’t worry. I trust you completely.”</p><p>“I’m so glad.”</p><p>The silence stretches out comfortably, and then Crowley speaks up again, his voice heavy. “Think I may nod off again, actually. Care to join me?”</p><p>Aziraphale hesitates to answer. He almost says <i>No, thank you.</i> Angels don’t need sleep, and the idea has always made him a bit nervous, and besides which the novel he’d been reading has just started to get interesting…</p><p>He stops, though, and thinks of all the times Crowley has accompanied him to restaurants, ordered wine or coffee and contentedly watched Aziraphale indulge himself in one earthly delight after another. He knows Crowley <i>can</i> eat, but does so rarely, for reasons of his own. Sometimes, though, something will bring Aziraphale such transparent joy that Crowley asks if he can have a bite, and Aziraphale treasures those moments. Those moments when Crowley can taste what he tastes, can find pleasure in the same places Aziraphale finds it.</p><p><i>Love is trust</i>, he thinks, and pulls the demon closer.</p><p>“I’d love to,” he whispers. “I’m not sure how, though. Could you…maybe help me get started?”</p><p>It’s fully dark outside now, and Crowley’s eyes glitter from the bookshop’s dim lights when he smiles. </p><p>“Sure, angel,” he sighs. “Close your eyes, now, and just let go.”</p><p>Aziraphale closes his eyes. Crowley pulls him against his chest, and the soft vibrations from his voice are deeply comforting.</p><p>“You’ll sleep now, and dream of whatever it is you like best.”</p><p>He feels the weight of Crowley’s powers falling over them like a heavy blanket. It’s dark, this demonic magic, but it’s also warm, and oh, so sinfully compelling.</p><p>“I’m right here with you, my angel. I’ve got you. We’re safe.”</p><p>Aziraphale lets go. He falls into that deep, soft darkness, where his beloved demon waits for him, perfectly at peace.</p><p>They sleep.</p>
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